


In the Ordinary Light

by Gefionne



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kylo is in a motorcycle accident but is not seriously injured, M/M, Oral Sex, Paramedic Hux, ambulance sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gefionne/pseuds/Gefionne
Summary: Hux has seen every kind of injury and mishap in his career as a paramedic, and when he’s called to the scene of a motorcycle accident, he treats a young man who comes out, remarkably, with only a scar. Hux doesn’t expect gratitude, but when Kylo Ren comes calling to thank him, he gets it in quite an unexpected way.





	In the Ordinary Light

**Author's Note:**

> For [gingergoldshirt](http://gingergoldshirt.tumblr.com/) based on [this art](http://gingergoldshirt.tumblr.com/post/166036114354/medic-10-in-bound-to-your-facility-emergency).
> 
> There is a massive AU that goes with this, but this is only a snippet. If you want to know more, ask gingergoldshirt! <3

Phasma always said working as a paramedic was like being in Afghanistan during the height of the insurgency: one minute you were sitting on your ass shooting the shit with your partner and the next you were in the center of the action, guns out—or, in their case now, in the back of an ambulance screaming down the highway with sirens blaring. Despite his unassuming nature, their trainee Mitaka drove as if he was in the getaway car after a bank heist, and it left Hux and Phasma to brace themselves in the back and try to imagine what mess they were about to walk into.

They had seen most anything the human body could have broken or bleeding in the three years they had been partners. Phasma was ex-Army and Hux former Navy, and both of them from England, so their supervisors had found it funny to pair them up. The joke was on them, though; they were the best performing team in the region. Phasma took nobody’s bullshit—from patients’ families to emergency room doctors—and Hux generally let her deal with them. That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t good at his job—he was _exceptional_ , according to his supervisors—but he tended to focus on the patients in the moment and not their hangers-on. Phasma could defuse a situation like the bombs she used to dispose of so Hux could work in peace.

From what had come over the radio, this call was to the scene of a motorcycle accident just outside the center of town. Thankfully, it hadn’t been high-speed, but there was still a huge potential for injury when a car hit a motorcyclist. You couldn’t have paid Hux enough to get on one of those death traps. He had watched enough young people scraped across the pavement to avoid motorcycles for life. He drove a very sensible Honda: a used five-speed in black.

The ambulance lurched to the side as they rounded a corner and then to an abrupt stop. Phasma threw the back doors open and sprang down onto the street. Hux followed, carrying his jump-bag in his left hand. A quick assessment of the scene had the car about twenty feet away, its front end crumped. Two women, both crying, were standing nearby. Neither of them were injured that Hux could see, and he let Phasma take them. The motorcycle itself was lying on its side on the shoulder of the road, half in the grass. A group of bystanders were gathered at the edge of the thankfully empty drainage ditch on the other side, looking down at the body of what appeared to be a male—by his size.

Hux shoved people out of the way to slide down the embankment and into the ditch. The man was wearing a helmet—small blessings—which was scuffed on one side from skidding across the road. The visor was broken and Hux saw that there was blood all over his face, seeping from a cut across his forehead and down his cheek. Somehow it hadn’t hit his eye and blinded him. The cut seemed to be only source of the blood, however, sparing him other hemorrhage. With that ruled out, Hux checked to see if he was conscious. Easing his hand into the broken visor, he pulled back his eyelids and shone at penlight into them. His pupils reacted and he made a small noise, even if he didn’t move. At least he was responsive and they wouldn’t have to intubate him. But Hux was going to have to turn him to assess the extent of his other injuries, and that required help.

“Phasma!” he called. “I need you and the board!”

In the one or two minutes he had to wait, he carefully unzipped the black riding jacket the man wore and listened for gurgles, or a kind of snore, that indicated a compromised airway. Fortunately, the inhales and exhales sounded normal—if shallow. Confirming that he was breathing on his own, Hux slid his stethoscope against his chest to hear the even inflation of both of his lungs. His heartbeat was steady, too, but Hux would have to take his blood pressure to make sure his circulation was still good. At least he wasn’t losing much blood. Hux was just about to holler for Phasma again when she came down the embankment carrying the orange backboard and a cervical collar.

“We need to get him turned,” Hux said brusquely, though Phasma was already taking her position at his middle, near his hips. Hux placed his hands at the man’s neck and at the back of his helmet to keep his cervical spine aligned as they moved him. If he had a spinal injury, even the slightest shift could not only paralyze but kill him. In the case that he was lucky enough to come out without that kind of damage, he could still have several major broken bones. They had to handle him carefully.

“On my count,” Hux said. “One, two, _three_.” They moved in perfect unison to shift the man onto the backboard, which would now keep his spine mostly stable.

Phamsa began to strap him down right away, saying as she worked, “We’ve got to get that helmet off.”

Hux touched the top of it. “I know. Let’s just get him out of this ditch first.”

They carried him on the backboard up onto the shoulder of the road, not far from the motorcycle, which looked sleek and expensive and utterly ruined, now. When the backboard was on the ground again, Phasma took hold of the front and back of his neck to keep his spine in place while Hux unclipped and removed the helmet—straight back from his chin to the crown of his head—and tossed it aside. He immediately put a cervical collar around his neck to brace his spine.

Hux paused only briefly to look at him, but his dark hair was disordered and some of the blood from the cut on his face had run down his temple and stuck in it. His long nose was undamaged and the skin of his cheeks was warm to the touch—a good sign.

“Let’s get him out of here,” Phasma said. “The police are here for the others. They’re fine.”

“Right,” said Hux. “On three.”

Together, they lifted the board again and carried the man to their ambulance. Mitaka, who had been standing by with the driver’s door open, jumped inside and started the engine. Phasma got the backboard strapped in place and the back doors of the ambulance shut while Hux cut down the length of the right sleeve of the man’s riding jacket, parting the sides to get an IV into his vein. Phasma produced a mask and got the oxygen flowing. It was Hux who took his blood pressure, which was within a normal range. Phasma taped some gauze over the wound on his face.

With him stabilized, Hux took a few seconds to breathe.

“He’s not too bad off,” Phasma said from her seat across from Hux’s. “It could have been a hell of a lot worse.”

“True enough,” Hux muttered. His attention was still on his patient, whose breath was lightly fogging the oxygen mask with each exhale. Hux removed his riding gloves and tossed them on the floor, examining his hands. The thick padding of the gloves had saved him from the worst of the road rash, but two of his fingers were swollen and likely broken. Hux tested one, moving it just slightly, and the man groaned, his eyes opening under sticky, blood-crusted lids. He wasn’t completely conscious, but Hux got a brief glimpse of brown irises.

The hospital was only eight miles away, and it wasn’t long before they were pulling up at the ER’s porte-cochère. A pair of nurses and a doctor were waiting to receive them, all five of them rushing him onto a gurney and wheeling him inside. Hux and Phasma stayed by the door, watching the others disappear around the corner into the ER proper.

The high of a call began to fade immediately, leaving Hux deflated and in need of a cup of coffee. He drank far too much of it during his days and nights at work, but he could have worse vices, he supposed. He and Phasma hopped up into the ambulance again as Mitaka drove them back to dispatch headquarters, where they would wait for another call; they still had six hours of their shift left.

In general, they didn’t like to speculate about patients because one never knew when they would lose one, and they didn’t dwell on those. They saw too much pain to keep a running tally of deaths. Still, as Hux popped inside the garage for a cup of hours-old coffee from the battered pot, he wondered what would become of their most recent patient. He hoped he didn’t have a spinal; he looked to be barely a day over twenty-five. It would have been a shame to see him paralyzed. But he made a conscious decision to ride a motorcycle, so he wasn’t entirely innocent.

“You’re brooding,” Phasma said from her perch on the bumper of the ambulance. “Didn’t much like this one, did you?”

Hux stirred chunks of powdered creamer around in his styrofoam cup idly. “Do I ever like any of them? It’s just such a waste of life, sometimes. If he had been in a car, it would have been a fender-bender at most.”

Phasma shrugged. “I don’t think he’s going to die. He wasn’t even that banged up. If you’re really concerned, check on him tomorrow.”

“You’re serious?” Hux asked, one eyebrow raised. “You always say never to ask after them the next day.”

“If it’ll stop your damned brooding,” she replied, “just do it.”

Hux didn’t have time to finish his coffee before they were called out again. He threw the cup to the side, spattering the pavement with white-brown liquid, and was off.

 

****

 

Although he didn’t think it was the best idea—in case it was bad news—Hux went into the hospital the next morning and asked at the triage desk if they knew anything about a motorcycle crash victim who had come in yesterday afternoon.

“Oh, you mean Kylo,” the nurse said with an earnest, gap-toothed smile. Her scrubs had kittens and balls of string printed on them. “He was up and about by yesterday night. Had to have a few stitches on his cheek, but otherwise he just had a few bumps and bruises. They released him about an hour ago.”

Hux found himself immensely relieved that he was all right, but a little disappointed that he couldn’t see him. Not that that was so bright, anyway. A paramedic didn’t expect any kind of gratitude from a patient, especially one who hadn’t even seen his face.

“Thank you,” he said to the nurse. He was turning to leave when she called: “Are you the one who found him?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“Kylo asked about you,” she said. “He wanted to say thank you. I gave him the number of the regional headquarters. Figured he could get in touch with the right person.”

“Oh,” said Hux, caught off guard. “I will...see if there are any messages for me later today.”

The nurse gave him a wink. “He’s a good-looking kid. Maybe he wants to ask you on a date.”

Hux laughed. “Somehow I doubt that, but I appreciate your telling me. Have a good rest of your morning.”

“Bye, honey,” she said, waving.

Mitaka had parked their ambulance in the appointed place while Hux and Phasma took their fifteen-minute break. Neither of them did much, usually, and Hux found her leaning against the side of the ambulance, texting furiously. When Hux stopped beside her, she brandished a slip of paper.

“You got a call from headquarters. Somebody wanted to talk to you. They couldn’t give out your personal cell, so the guy left his number for you.”

Hux took the paper and read the messily scrawled phone number on it. He gave a quick glance at his watch, finding he still had eight minutes left of break. Stealing around the other side of the ambulance, he pulled out his phone and dialed. There came a deep “Hello?” after three rings.

“Yes, hello,” said Hux, strangely on edge. “I received this number from my employer. I’m a paramedic with—”

“You’re Hux!” the man on the other line said. “At least that’s what they told me your name was when I called your, um, office? I know this is a little weird, but they said you were the one who picked me up off the side of the road after my accident yesterday. I don’t know if you remember…”

“I do,” Hux said quickly. “I...inquired after you just a few minutes ago and was told you had been released. I’m glad to hear that you’re well.”

“Well, I’m a walking bruise and my face isn’t going to look great anymore, but I’m alive. Thanks to you, I guess.”

Hux countered, “You weren’t gravely injured. I responded, but I didn’t save your life by any means.”

“Okay, yeah. I see that.” The was a pause and then: “Well, anyway, I was hoping I could buy you a drink or something. I mean, I really owe you more than that, but it’s better than a thank-you card, right?”

“I suppose,” Hux said.

“You suppose it’s better than a card or you suppose you’ll have a drink with me?”

“Well, I...I wouldn’t turn down a drink.”

He thought he could hear a smile through the phone. “Great! How about tonight? Unless you’re working late or something. There’s a bar called the Alderaan Taproom on Fifth Street.”

“I know it,” Hux said. It was hard not to get to know the city when you spent your days driving around it to collect bodies and stanch bleeding. “And I’ll be off of work at seven. I need to go home and shower, but I can meet you around seven-forty-five.”

“Perfect,” said, well, _Kylo_. “I’ll be the guy at the bar with the busted-up face.”

Hux barely contained a short laugh. “I believe I’ll recognize you, but if you’re looking for me, I have red hair.”

Kylo hummed. “I thought I saw red for a second there. But maybe I imagined it. I was pretty messed up.” He coughed. “Anyway, tonight at seven-forty-five. I’ll see you there, Hux.”

They disconnected the call and Hux fell back against the side of the ambulance, not quite sure what to make of the whole situation. Despite having dismissed the nurse’s assertion that Kylo had wanted a date, he was effectively going on a date with him. Hux pinched the bridge of his nose. A fool notion, this.

Phasma barely looked up from phone when he appeared again. “Get it figured out?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, and was content not to offer any more details.

 

****

 

Hux spent a little more time than was strictly necessary for this meeting choosing what he would wear. The Alderaan Taproom was hardly an establishment that required a tie, but he didn’t want to wear just a plain shirt and jeans. After twenty minutes of deliberating in front of his closet, he finally chose a button-up, the collar of which he could leave undone, and blue trousers. He combed his hair, but didn’t use the amount of product he did at work to keep it out of his eyes. It had a kind of lazy flip over the part which he thought looked casual but not careless.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered as he gave himself a last once-over in the mirror.

The bar was fairly empty before eight o’clock, making it easy to find Kylo on a stool nursing a cocktail. He was all in black, with the same heavy motorcycle boots he had been wearing at the scene. A brand new jacket hung from a hook under the bar and a full-face, red helmet was on the floor by his feet. He had come on a motorcycle—so soon after the accident.

Hux approached, stepping up beside him. “Kylo?” he asked.

He turned immediately, displaying three butterfly closures along the cut on his cheek and forehead. His left eye was blackened by it, but he was otherwise unharmed. His prominent chin followed the line of a soft but distinct jawline. The dark hair that had been so mussed on the scene of the accident was clean and wavy, hanging just above his shoulders. A wide mouth split into a smile. “Hux,” he said. “You made it.” He gestured to the stool beside him; two of his fingers were taped together in a splint. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Hux said, taking the appointed place. The bartender wandered over and he ordered one of the autumn beers from a local brewery.

“You want to start a tab?” the bartender asked.

“It’s on mine,” said Kylo before Hux could reply. Another smile. “I owe him that much. He saved my life.”

“That so?” the bartender said, though he was already leaving to pour Hux’s drink.

“I did hardly that,” Hux said to Kylo. “You would have been fine, anyway.”

Kylo shrugged one shoulder and stirred the ice around in his drink. “Still, I appreciate it. I was completely out of it on the side of the road there.”

“You were,” said Hux, “but you recovered very well. That cut will heal cleanly, I’m sure. And a plastics expert can minimize the scarring.”

“I’m leaving it as is,” Kylo said. “I kind of like it. And I guess it gives me something to tell guys about in bars.”

There was a nonchalant drop of his preferences that he meant for Hux to either accept or reject right away.

“You already know the story, though,” he continued, “so I can’t use it on you.”

Hux hadn’t been hit on quite so obviously in a few months—not since he and Phasma stopped going out after she had met Rey and transitioned to the domestic life—and it surprised him. Though not necessarily unpleasantly so. Kylo wasn’t very hard on the eyes, now that Hux saw him without the blood.

Hux took a slow sip of his beer, surveying Kylo very deliberately over it. Two could play this game, if that’s what Kylo was about. Kylo recognized it and grinned. He had cast a line with his flirtation and managed to hook something. Curious, Hux wanted to see where this would go.

“I’m afraid you can’t, no,” Hux said. He glanced down at Kylo’s helmet. “Already back in the saddle, are you?”

“I don’t have a car,” Kylo replied. “Haven’t since I was sixteen. I’m borrowing a bike for now, until I can buy a new one.”

“Will that be a while?” asked Hux. “I can’t imagine they come cheap.”

“They don’t, but I’ve got some savings and a pretty good job.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of asking what I do?”

Hux took another drink of beer. “I wouldn’t want to pry,” he lied.

Kylo laughed. “Of course not. Let’s just say I work in sales for a local company.”

“Very well,” Hux said. “You already know what I do.”

“How’d you get into it, if you don’t mind my asking.”

Hux shifted on the stool. It wasn’t a long story, but it usually caught people off guard. “I used to work in medical in the Navy,” he said. “Rather stumbled into it while I was serving and came to like it. I didn’t care to go to medical school—never had the marks for it—so I went to get my associate’s and my clinical hours. I started working for the county three years ago.”

“The Navy, huh?”

There it was.

“Yes,” said Hux. “I came to the United States as young teenager and had my citizenship by eighteen. My father was in the British Army, and I wanted to piss him off, so I chose the Navy instead.”

“Did it work?” Kylo asked. “Did you piss him off successfully?”

Hux smiled grimly. “Oh, yes. It worked wonderfully. I see him once a year and he never fails to bring up how much of disappointment I am.”

“I can relate,” Kylo said. “I never really got along with my parents, either. The guy I work for, he took me in when I was getting into all kinds of trouble as a kid and straightened me out. Well, in a manner of speaking.”

“There’s a story there,” Hux said, “but I imagine you’re not inclined to share it.”

Kylo shook his head. “Not right now. Maybe the next time we go out.”

Hux gave him another long look over his beer. “Already expecting a ‘next time?’” he asked. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“I don’t know yours, either,” said Kylo.

“In fact, you do. Hux is my last name.”

Kylo tipped his head to the side, affecting interest. “Oh yeah? What’s your first name, then?”

“Armitage,” Hux replied. “But don’t use it. I’ve always hated it.”

“Again,” said Kylo, “I can relate. My parents didn’t call me Kylo Ren. My boss did. I like it better than my birth name, though, so I kept it. Had it legally changed last year.”

Hux chuckled. “Well, it suits you.”

“Thanks.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, both of them drinking their drinks and Kylo tapping his splint against the pockmarked bar.

“Be careful with that,” Hux told him. “It will heal faster if you don’t...harass it.”

Kylo eyed him. “You sure you’re not a doctor? You _are_ bossy.”

Hux pursed his lips. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had been told that. In fact, his last boyfriend had dumped him for being unwilling to compromise on some things in their relationship. Hux didn’t miss him; he couldn’t be bothered to baby someone who couldn’t take care of himself.

“When you deal with wailing, injured people all day,” he said, “you learn to be authoritative. I have to assess and take charge of a situation immediately. I have no time to coddle anyone.”

“Nobody here needs coddling,” Kylo said. “I’m not really a gentle soul.”

Hux found himself smiling slyly, quite charmed by Kylo’s straightfowardness. “Nor am I.”

Kylo drained the rest of his glass and held it up, ice tinkling. “You want another?”

Hux quickly finished his own beer. “If you’re buying.”

They talked until half past ten, getting through four drinks each. Hux was pleasantly humming with alcohol and leaning just a little too far into Kylo’s personal space. He didn’t seem to mind, especially when he trailed a long index finger along Hux’s forearm, where he had rolled up his sleeves. The ginger hair stood up in response.

“I should probably get going,” Hux said with considerable reluctance. “I have a five a.m. shift tomorrow morning.”

Kylo made a face. “I haven’t woken up earlier than nine in years. You have to do that often?”

“Fairly often,” Hux replied. “I don’t work a regular schedule.”

“Neither do I,” said Kylo. “We match.”

Hux huffed. “Somehow I don’t think our schedules will always align.”

Kylo’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, and he caught Hux’s gaze tracking to follow it. “Well, I’ll make time, if you will.”

“I believe I can do that,” Hux said.

Kylo paid the tab and they left together, not touching but standing close. Kylo held the door for Hux to pass through. The night had cooled considerably, and Hux went to roll his sleeves back down. Kylo shrugged his jacket back on, but left the helmet off for now. His borrowed motorcycle was standing a few feet away, taking up a whole parking space—which Hux had always hated. He tried not to let that show. He was still looking at the bike when Kylo put an arm around his waist and pulled him in.

“So, when’s that next time?” Kylo asked, lowly.

Hux laid a hand on his chest, over one side of his open jacket. “I have next Tuesday night free.”

Kylo’s fingers worked at his side. “Mm, that works for me. You want to come here again, or somewhere else?”

“Here is fine,” Hux replied. “And I’ll buy the drinks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Kylo.

Hux took the zipper of his jacket between thumb and forefinger and worried it there. “What about saving up for your new motorcycle?”

Kylo leaned in closer, and Hux could smell whiskey on his breath. “I can wait if it means taking you out again.”

Hux couldn’t help but agree. “All right. Tuesday night at eight, then?”

“Sounds perfect.” Kylo released him there, leaving Hux just a little disappointed that he hadn’t ventured a kiss. The roar of the motorcycle’s engine echoed off the buildings and made Hux cringe just before he headed to his own car to go home.

 

****

 

The drinks on Tuesday ended a little more favorably, with Kylo letting Hux press him up against a narrow alley wall while they kissed hungrily. Kylo was good at it, and attentive to what Hux wanted. Both of them were a little drunk and handsy, but they went back to their own places after a few fevered minutes.

The next day, Phasma laughed out loud at the bruises on Hux’s neck, saying he and his “rescue boyfriend” were at it like teenagers. Hux might once have been embarrassed, but he was enjoying himself far too much with Kylo to worry about it.

 

****

 

A Monday night at two-thirty in the morning wasn’t always the busiest time for calls, Hux had learned. On this particular one, he was sitting on the bumper of their ambulance, fiddling with his phone. Kylo, he had discovered, wasn’t much of a texter. He actually dialed Hux’s number and _spoke_ to him. It was oddly quaint, but limited their daily communication. They generally only called to arrange a date and then met at the appointed time and talked then.

They had met up two more times since the first date at the Alderaan Taproom, and Kylo had still said nothing about his work, but he showed a great deal of interest in Hux’s. He was easy to talk to, which Hux enjoyed, and Hux found that he could let his usually ironclad guard down somewhat as they got to know each other better. Hux had told Phasma a bit about him, and she seemed somewhat skeptical. For the most part, Hux disregarded her and continued to see him.

“Hi there.”

Hux lifted his head at the familiar voice, looking up to see Kylo standing in front of him with a paper bag in his hand and his motorcycle helmet under his arm. “Kylo,” Hux said, rising. “What are you doing here?”

He held up the bag. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I might bring you a midnight snack. Well, close enough to midnight anyway. You like donuts?”

“I do,” Hux replied. He took the bag from Kylo and peered inside, finding four chocolate-glazed donuts, some of their grease staining the paper around them. “Are these from Enzo’s?”

“Sure are,” said Kylo, smiling. “I know you said you liked their pastries.”

Hux thanked him, but added, “Their shop is on 11th Street. That’s sixteen blocks north of here. You were very much _not_ in the neighborhood.”

Kylo rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little abashed. “Yeah, well, I guess I was just making up an excuse to see you. I haven’t since last Wednesday.”

Hux got a pleasant little thrill from that. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve been working a lot.”

“Yes, he has,” said Phasma, sauntering around the side of the ambulance to size Kylo up. He was her height, but bigger, broader. She stuck out her hand. “Nice to see you up and about there, _Kylo_.”

Hux glared at her, disliking the hostility, but she didn’t seem fazed. Fortunately, Kylo wasn’t intimidated.

“I should thank you, too,” he said, “for saving my sorry ass a few weeks ago.”

She shrugged. “Just another job.”

“Phasma,” Hux warned.

Kylo came a step closer to Hux, laying a hand on his hip and drawing him in to kiss his cheek. Phasma watched them all the while, sourly.

“Did I hear something about snacks?” she asked.

“Yes, I believe you did,” Hux replied. He held the bag open to her. “Courtesy of Kylo, so be _nice_.”

She took one and bit into it. “Very good, thanks. I was thinking of calling in a break. Do the lovers need fifteen minutes to make moon eyes at each other while I get some coffee?”

Hux moved to protest, but then thought the better of it. “Fine. Tell them to send someone else on a call, if we get one, for the next fifteen. And make yourself scarce.”

“Ha! Sure, boss, sure.” She called: “Mitaka! Come get a donut and get lost with me.”

Their driver poked his head around the corner of the ambulance. “What?”

Phasma grabbed him around the shoulder, snatched the bag of donuts from Hux’s hand, and dragged Mitaka away toward the garage.

“She’s something,” Kylo said when they had gone.

Hux sighed, “Yes. Extremely vexing at times, but she’s good at her job.”

“‘Vexing,’” Kylo parroted. “Slow down there, Jane Austen.”

“Sod off,” Hux grumbled, shoving his shoulder.

Kylo laughed and, setting his helmet down on the ground, took Hux around the waist and pulled him in for a real kiss. Hux gave as good as he got, sucking at Kylo’s lower lip and sliding his tongue into his mouth. It was quite inappropriate for his workplace, but it was two o’clock in the morning and Hux hadn’t kissed him in nearly a week; he could indulge for few minutes.

“Can I see the inside of the ambulance?” Kylo asked when they parted. He was swaying his hips from side to side, guiding Hux along with him.

“You already have,” Hux replied.

Kylo made a face. “I was unconscious. Come on. I’ve heard you talk about it. Just a quick peek. I won’t touch anything.” He leaned in. “‘Cept you.”

“I could get called away at any moment,” Hux said, though halfheartedly.

“Phasma said fifteen minutes,” said Kylo, sliding his hands down over Hux’s belt and onto his ass. “That’s a lot of time if we’re quick.” Hux’s surprise must have been apparent because Kylo chuckled. “What? You’ve never fooled around in there before?”

“I...no,” Hux said, stumbling over the words. “The only people I’m inside with are Phasma and our patients. I have no cause to...fool around with them.”

Kylo nuzzled Hux’s cheek, a weakness he had already learned to exploit. Hux was very fond of Kylo’s long nose and Kylo now used it to get what he wanted. “Time’s a-wastin’. We’ve got maybe thirteen minutes, now.”

Hux couldn’t believe that he was considering it, but only seconds later, he was hauling Kylo up into the back of the ambulance by the hand and shutting the doors behind them. Kylo was on him in an instant, yanking his work-issued white button-up out of his trousers and rucking it up. It appeared he had no intention of actually taking it off; he went directly for Hux’s belt and started fumbling with the buckle.

“Do you need a manual for this thing?” he said. “Jesus.” However, he succeeded in getting the buckle free and going for the fly of Hux’s trousers.

Hux leaned back against the stretcher at the side of the cabin and let him work, rather enjoying watching him struggle. Soon enough, though, Hux’s trousers were shoved halfway down his legs and Kylo had pulled his cock from his underwear and hit his knees in front of him. He blinked up at Hux as he took him into his mouth.

He was as clever here as he was with his kisses, using lips and tongue and even a bit of teeth to bring Hux to full hardness. He teased him with licks and mouthing before Hux took hold of his hair and told him, “Ten minutes.”

“More than I need,” Kylo replied before taking Hux all the way into the back of his throat, as if was no trouble at all.

“Oh, Christ,” Hux groaned as Kylo swallowed around him, making a choked kind of sound. He didn’t seem deterred, though, and pulled back with a wet suck all the way to the tip of Hux’s cock. He was far too good at this for Hux to last, and Hux was positive he knew it.

Hux watched him bob his head up and down the length of him and bit down on his lip to keep quiet when Kylo’s hand came up to cup his testicles and press behind them. He didn’t go farther than that, which Hux was glad for; he had not prepared for any of that kind of play.

“God, _Kylo_ ,” Hux said. “I’m getting close. I don’t want to make you—” Kylo hummed around him and words failed.

Whether it was scant seconds or minutes later, Hux didn’t know, but then he was coming hard into Kylo’s mouth, breath stuttering as his body vibrated with sensation. Kylo sucked him clean, until he had recovered the ability to think. When he looked down his front, his cock was hanging half-hard and wet between his legs and Kylo was staring up at him with red lips and a very self-satisfied smile.

Hux cupped his chin and rubbed a thumb over his mouth. “Perfect,” he said. “Come here.”

Kylo stood—well, they were both still somewhat crouched in to the low-ceilinged ambulance—and helped Hux put himself to rights again between kisses. Hux wasn’t sure if he could really taste himself on Kylo’s tongue, but he imagined he could. From a cabinet, he took a bottle of water and pushed it into Kylo’s hands.

“We’ve only four more minutes,” Hux said, “but I can try to see to you.” He reached for Kylo’s groin, but Kylo canted away.

“You’ll owe me next time,” he said. “And I’ve been thinking about that since I met you. Weird fantasy, I guess, but…” He trailed off, reaching around Hux to test the stability of the stretcher. “You think we could do more in here?”

Hux pushed him back, reaching for the door handle. “We are not having sex in my ambulance, Kylo.”

Kylo jumped out first, stopping Hux before he could step down. “We just did, but if you really don’t want to…” He pouted quite dramatically.

“Good God,” Hux said. “I’ll consider it, all right?”

Grinning, Kylo latched onto his waist, rose up onto the tips of his toes, and kissed Hux on the mouth again. “Don’t think too long. But also...isn’t it your night off tomorrow?”

“It is.”

“Then come to my place. We can practice for a quickie on the stretcher.”

Hux scoffed as Kylo laughed, helping him down from the bumper of the ambulance. “You should go,” Hux said. “We really might be called out.”

“I know,” said Kylo, “but it was good to see you. Tomorrow night?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll text you my address.” He wrinkled his nose. “You can drive on your own since you won’t ride on my bike. Otherwise, I’d pick you up.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to be a smear on the highway,” Hux said.

Kylo touched his forehead to Hux’s. “I won’t ever make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. You’ve got my word on that, okay?”

Hux nodded as much as he could without jarring either of them. “All right.”

“Get your donut glazed, Hux?” Phasma asked from where she sat on the nearby curb sipping from a styrofoam cup.

“Piss off, Phas” was his reply. To Kylo he said, “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Hux,” said Kylo with a last nudge of his nose.

Hux watched him gather up his helmet and zip up his riding jacket before he disappeared around the other side of the garage. He heard him drive away a few seconds later.

“You are utterly gone for him,” Phasma said, having stood and come to his side. She shoved the paper bag back to him, and he found one donut left inside. “And I don’t mind him. He came all the way out here just to suck you off in the ambulance.”

“Phasma!” Hux snapped. “Keep your voice down.”

She laughed. “Not denying it? That’s rich. But I could only guess when you pulled him in there with fire in your eyes.”

Hux chewed his donut, saying nothing. He didn’t care how much she was going to tease him; he was already looking forward to tomorrow night, and pleased as punch at the very unusual way he had found himself with Kylo.


End file.
